Promises
by MintyPill
Summary: Oneshot fic: A look back at that fateful day in fourth grade when Wright was put on trial...how did Edgeworth and Wright's relationship begin?


**_Promises_**

_Disclaimer: Phoenix Wright and company belong to Capcom, not me!_

_Author's Note: I recently remembered, although rather too late, that Edgeworth's lunch money was stolen during _recess_. For laziness's sake, this story takes place in a world where it was stolen during P.E. Happy reading! _

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Phoenix Wright, age nine, was not very good at making friends.

It's not that he didn't try! Every school he went to, he always chattered away to anyone who would listen, sat next to anyone sitting by themselves, asked to play in any game that looked fun. But his chatter was always ignored (or made fun of), the kids sitting by themselves were just saving seats for their friends, and the games were always filled up. And by the time the other kids started to remember him when setting up a basketball game at recess...it would be time to move again.

Phoenix stared out the school bus window, wishing that he were going anywhere else. He knew exactly what was going to happen. It was almost a matter of routine, now: show up, introduce yourself to everyone, be ignored. Or worse, laughed at when you tripped or when the biggest kid pulled the chair out from under you.

It wasn't even the teasing that bothered him the most – he was just tired of trying and failing, all the time. No matter what he did, it always seemed to just bite him in the face. So maybe this time...he just wouldn't try. He'd still be friendless and alone, but at least this time it would be his choice.

The bus lurched to a stop in front of Central Elementary, pulling Phoenix out of his somber thoughts. As he stepped out, he heard the all-too-familiar calls of friends who hadn't seen each other all summer, of grand adventures being recounted and secrets being shared...everyone was so happy to see each other.

This was not going to be fun.

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Miles Edgeworth could not make up his mind.

Should he talk to him? Or not? Would he want to talk? Would he talk too much? Would he be annoying? Would he think that _he_ was annoying?

Miles stared down at his book. He had decided this morning that he was going to talk to that Phoenix Wright guy during recess, no matter what. Dad always said that a good attorney is open and friendly, and well...this was his best chance to give it a shot. All the other kids would just think it was weird if Miles Edgeworth, the Silent-One-Who-Just-Reads-All-The-Time, came up and started talking to them. Besides, what would he say? There was nothing _to_ say. There was nothing he wanted to know about them, and nothing they wanted to know about him. Useless.

But Phoenix was a silent one, too – every recess they were like mirror images of each other; Miles reading, Phoenix drawing...it wouldn't be nearly as embarrassing to talk to him. Plus, since they didn't know each other, they had things they could talk about – it would be easy, right?

Miles realized he had been staring, and jerked his eyes back down to his book. Had Phoenix noticed? He tried to peek over without lifting his head. Good, he was still drawing. That would have been so embarrassing, to be caught like that...

The bell rang, disrupting Miles's thoughts. Shoot, he had chickened out _again! _How was he supposed to be a great attorney like Dad if he wasn't even brave enough to introduce himself to someone...? Miles vowed that he'd do it tomorrow...but he could tell that this wouldn't be the first day the recess bell would catch him and Phoenix still sitting on opposite sides of the playground.

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Phoenix _hated_ P.E.

It wasn't so bad when they were just running laps or doing pushups, but when they played team games...oh, it was terrible.

On those days, the kids who were unpopular were made painfully obvious. It's one thing to be left out of a conversation, but at least you can stand in the same circle and _look_ like you get all the inside jokes. But when you're playing volleyball, it's pretty easy to spot the kids who have never touched the ball, who are just standing to one side on the court, occasionally reaching out to return an incoming serve, but always getting there too late.

So today, Phoenix decided to skip.

He sat behind the bleachers, listening to the squeak of rubber soles and the shouts of everyone fighting for the ball. There was one school where he had really been able to play with everyone else...if only he could have stayed there for a third semester. But today was not a day for self-pity – he was going to finish that drawing!

Phoenix took out his drawing pad. It was pretty tattered by now, and his parents were always asking if he wanted a new one, but he liked it the way it was – it had character. He turned to his latest page, and examined his handiwork so far.

For the past week and a half, he had been working on this drawing of that guy with the book. He wasn't sure what his name was; the teacher never had to call him by name, since whenever he raised his hand in class, it was only because no one else knew the answer. But he was the perfect model for Phoenix's first "serious work", as he liked to call it. Most of his stuff was doodles, but this time he really wanted to _draw_ something, spend time on one picture, make it as good as possible. And this guy with the fancy clothes was always in the same spot during recess, always right across from him, always with a book. It was perfect!

But as Phoenix settled to work on the left arm (which had been bothering him all day), he kept wondering why he hadn't tried to talk to the guy. At first it had been his Don't Try Don't Fail plan, and then it was that he didn't know his name, and now it was because he wanted to finish the picture...but would the excuses ever end? At one time he would have jumped at a chance like this; another kid, equally friendless – what was there to lose? Phoenix didn't know. But he didn't want to find out, either.

He glanced at his watch – class was almost over. Dusting himself off, he wandered back toward the rest of his class.

"It was him!" A tall girl with bright red hair was pointing at him angrily. "He had to have done it!"

"Wh-what?" Phoenix stammered. What was going on? Why was everyone glaring? It's not like he was the only kid who ever skipped...

"He was gone the whole class! He could've taken it whenever he wanted to!"

"Yeah! Where did you put it, you creep!"

"Put what? What's going on? What did I do?" Phoenix was starting to feel scared – he didn't do anything!

"Don't play dumb!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah, we all know you took it!"

"What's going on?" the coach interjected. Finally, someone on his side! Phoenix ran over to him in relief. The coach would know he didn't do anything!

"Phoenix stole Miles's lunch money!" The tall redhead pointed toward the boy I had been drawing. It was _his_ money that had been stolen?

"What, no, I didn't do anything!" I pleaded with the coach. But from the look on his face...

"Pipe down, everyone. All of you line up – time to go back to class. Phoenix, you stay with me. We're going to have a talk with your teacher."

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Miles knew Phoenix didn't do it.

He had seen him sneak off behind the bleachers, probably to continue his coloring. Miles had actually planned to do the same thing (the sneaking, not the coloring), but, well...that would've been awkward.

I mean, it was pretty obvious that Larry did it. It's always Larry, why shouldn't it be this time? He had the perfect opportunity - he wasn't even at school! But even the teacher seemed to think that was actually an alibi, and so this farce of a trial was started.

Miles was irritated. This was stupid! He didn't even care about his stolen lunch money! If someone needed the money that badly, they could have it. And this "trial" was ridiculous! He had been to _real_ trials, and they weren't anything like this. No one was shouting "objection"! There wasn't even any evidence! When was the teacher going to realize that this whole thing was stupid?

Miles sat seething through the whole "trial." He almost spoke up several times, but everyone was shouting and stomping around, and Phoenix was up there bawling his stupid eyes out, and he figured that logic and reason would show up some time, anyways.

Finally, the teacher was regaining control - "All right, everyone, that's enough! Quiet down, kids! I said, sit down! Jason, yes, that means _you_!"

Miles rubbed his temples the way he'd seen Dad do when he was frustrated. Finally, the teacher would tell everyone that there was no way to convict Phoenix on the evidence and blah blah blah and everything would be fine and life would go back to normal.

"Now, Phoenix, everyone knows you did it. Alice even says she saw you."

What!? The teacher _believed _them? 

"But I didn't –sniff– I didn't do –sniff–"

This was ridiculous! Was she seriously going to convict Wright based on some hysterical kid's babbling?

"Phoenix, do I have to spell it out for you? We've already found you g—"

All right, she asked for it.

"OBJECTION!"

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Phoenix Wright had never been very good at making friends.

But he had made some anyways!

The day of that trial so many weeks ago had seemed like the worst day of his life. But it turned out to be one of the best! If it weren't for that trial, he would probably never have gotten the nerve to talk to Miles, or ever thought about approaching Larry.

Phoenix felt like the luckiest kid in the world as he walked to lunch with Miles. Larry had taken another "fun day" and was nowhere to be found, but that was all right – Larry could be pretty loud sometimes anyways.

Miles looked even more serious than usual as their trays clattered down on the table. "...Hey, Phoenix."

"Yeah, what is it Miles?" Phoenix replied with his usual ear-to-ear grin.

His looked off to the side. "Um...before, you were always drawing..."

"Yeah..." Why wouldn't Miles meet his eyes? Where was this going...?

"Why...don't you draw anymore?" Miles finally looked up, and his eyes stopped Phoenix mid-joke.

"I...well, there's this one picture I haven't finished, and I kind of wanted to finish it before I started another big piece, so..." So far he had kept his drawing of Miles a secret. It was kind of embarrassing, really, that he had spent so much time drawing him...

"Oh, okay."

And for some reason, Phoenix didn't want to finish the drawing. It felt like if he finished capturing Miles's spirit on paper, then that's where it would stay. Or maybe it felt like if he finished it, it would be like admitting that eventually they would part ways, that he would move and never see Miles again...

"...Actually, Miles, it...was of you."

"Of...of me?"

"Y-yeah..." Shoot, that was a mistake. Good job, Phoenix. He attacked his food with new vigor, wishing he could make some excuse to run away, fast.

"...Could I...see it?"

Phoenix blinked. He...wanted to see it?

"Um, sure! A-as soon as I finish it...hehe." He laughed nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

But Miles was still serious. "Do you promise?"

Phoenix stared back at his friend. Yes, one day, he'd show it to him. But not now. For now, he wanted to leave the drawing unfinished, a promise in itself. A promise that when they went their separate ways, Phoenix would find Miles again, so he could finish what he started. That was when he'd show it to him.

"I promise."

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_Thanks for reading! Any comments on out-of-character-ness would be greatly appreciated – it's one of my weaknesses. It's kind of bizarre how this story turned out – surprising as it may be, I don't actually support the Edgeworth/Wright pairing! Haha, I have no idea what happened. Thanks again for your time!_


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